


Pay Attention

by breakforanarchy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 11:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19172059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakforanarchy/pseuds/breakforanarchy
Summary: This was a prompt fill for imhergf134 on tumblr. Stephen's trying to teach Tony some magic, but Tony's way more interested in getting into Stephen's pants. Basically just humorous smut.





	Pay Attention

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in some made-up timeline after Infinity War where they won and no one died (because I can). Also, you can assume whatever you like as far as Pepper and Tony go; I'm imagining that they all become a poly v and that Pepper and Stephen are best buds who go out for coffee to either escape or rant about Tony :D.

“Pay attention, asshole.”

Quite deliberately (while making it appear entirely accidental, of course), Tony let his gaze wander over to the diagnostic running on his computer, allowed his stance waver. The tiny bit of sparking he’d actually managed to produce in the air at roughly eye level fizzled and died, but that was just fine. He was far more interested in the electric sensation of Stephen’s critical gaze—and seeing if he could get the uptight wizard to call him something worse than asshole.

He didn’t know what the hell it was about the combination of attractive people and curse words, but he was into it.

“Are you even trying?”

A quick glance told Tony that Stephen was still behind him, so he allowed himself a little smirk. “Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. Come on, I made sparks! Did you not see the sparks?”

Tony swirled the hand decked out with the sling ring—which he was not into, just for the record, the thing could seriously use an upgrade—in a vague approximation of what he’d been doing before. This was, apparently, completely unacceptable because Stephen was suddenly _right_ behind him, chest pressed to his back, long fingers wrapped around Tony’s wrists so that he could none-too-gently yank Tony into place.

“If you want to learn,” Stephen huffed, impatient, “Then you need to focus.”

Hot breath rushed over Tony’s ear as Stephen spoke; he was really very close, he probably didn’t need to be this close, did he? Maybe Tony wasn’t the only one into this.

And damn it, fine, he did want to learn (because _magic,_ and all the ways he could merge it with science), but he also really wanted Stephen to bend him over the nearest flat surface and pound him into next Tuesday, and he knew exactly what his priorities were right now (they were most definitely not straight).

“Oh, I’m focused,” Tony said, grinning. He tipped his head just a bit to the side, offering his neck in case Stephen had any interesting ideas for it.

There was a moment in which Stephen didn’t move, didn’t so much as draw a breath. When he did it was a deep one, pressing his chest more firmly to Tony’s back. His fingers curled inward, tight enough to bruise Tony’s skin. They weren’t trembling now, Tony noted with a distant kind of interest. Neither of his hands were.

“Are you asking me for something?” Stephen murmured, and Tony didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling, to hear the quiet curl of amusement in his tone.

“Only as blatantly as possible.” Tony smirked and began to whirl his hand again—slowly, so he didn’t dislodge the tight grip around his wrist. “Was beginning to think you’d never catch on.”

“Mm.” Stephen’s nose nudged his throat and oh fuck, finally. “I’ll admit, I’m not usually so slow in this area. Keep your hand steady.”

That last was without a doubt a quiet order and Tony groaned, letting his head fall back over Stephen’s shoulder. He was rewarded with an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck—light enough to be more taste than reward, but damned if he wasn’t ready to do whatever Stephen wanted to earn a real one.

The touch lifted away, and was followed by a sudden snort. “Stark.”

“Hmm?” Tony dropped one arm and snaked it back so he could run his hand along Stephen’s leg—long leg, god, everything about the man was long. “I think you can probably call me Tony now.”

“ _Stark._ You opened a portal.”

“Oh?” Okay, that was mildly interesting considering the circumstances, enough so to open his eyes and—oh.

“Yeah.” Stephen’s tone was dry enough to put the Sahara desert to shame. “That’s… honestly, I didn’t even know that was possible.”

Tony giggled—yes, fuck off, he giggled—and blatantly took in the view through the portal. Stephen really was long _everywhere._

“You should really make use of that.” Tony leaned his lower body away enough to cup _that_ just to make it very clear and huh, okay, he could kinda see the outline of his fingers and the material of Stephen’s pants in the portal, transparent in a ghostish sort of way and how exactly did that even _work?_

“And you should learn some manners,” Stephen barked—or tried, but Tony gave a squeeze and the end of Stephen’s sentence came out more breath than word.

“I’m more than open to the idea of you taking out your frustrations on my ass,” Tony quipped, chuckling when he felt the cock in his hand give a very interested twitch. “Seriously, in any way you might imagine. Hell, there’s a ruler in my desk drawer.”

Stephen hissed a breath in through his teeth. “Pants off and over your desk, _now._ ”

The sling ring went flying, the portal dissipated in a flurry of sparks, and Tony discovered it was a very bad idea to attempt running and pants-removal at the same time.

He still ended up face down over the desk, though, so really, it all ended well.

“Don’t move,” Stephen ordered, so Tony stayed with his arms outstretched, fingers curled over the far end of the desk, overheated forehead pressed to metal and eyes closed. His shirt was still on, which only made his bare lower half feel all the more exposed. He spread his legs just to increase the exposure, grinning and breathless as he imagined Stephen taking in the dangle of his balls. Maybe he’d take them in a tight grip, like he had Tony’s wrist—just hard enough to hurt, or maybe to threaten hurt. Either way, the idea alone had him panting and flexing his fingers against the edge of the desk.

Behind him, he could hear the rustle of clothes as Stephen moved around, or maybe removed them? He hadn’t said what exactly he was intending to do with Tony’s ass, so whether or not clothes actually needed to be removed wasn’t yet dec—

The sharp, quick sting of the ruler lashing across his ass made him yelp and arch, fingers going white-knuckle tight around the desk’s edge. Three more lashes followed in quick succession, then a pause in which Stephen murmured, “Good?”

“Oh _fuck_ yeah,” Tony groaned. “More.”

He got more, oh wow did he get more. By the time Stephen was done, Tony’s ass was a hot, throbbing mess—and he was damn near ready to come just from that. Stephen draped himself over Tony—ah, still clothed and okay wow, the cloth kinda hurt where it was rubbing up against red skin, but damn if it wasn’t fantastic. Tony ground himself back against Stephen, hands kneading at the edge of the desk like a damn cat.

“You did well,” Stephen murmured in his ear. He pulled the collar of Tony’s shirt aside and pressed a kiss to his shoulder that sent little jitters rushing down his spine.

“Mmm.” Of course he did, he was Tony Stark. He did everything well. “What’re you gonna do with me now?”

The hand at his shoulder slid down and around, encircling the erection that had never flagged during the spanking—hell, if anything, he’d just gotten harder. It only took a few strokes (and just as many kisses to his neck) before Tony was coming all over the desk.

It was really very nice that Stephen was pinning him down, otherwise he’d probably melt right onto the floor.

“Your turn?” Tony slurred, making a heroic (weak, very weak) attempt to ooze onto his back. Considering Stephen was still lying across it, he didn’t make it very far.

Stephen chuckled. “Later. You look ready to pass out.”

“Nng. No wait, that’s not fair, I can…” Tony flapped one hand loosely backward, but didn’t protest when Stephen hauled him upright and toward the cot he kept in one corner for the (frequent) times he never made it back to his bedroom.

"I’m fine, Stark. Tony.” Stephen lowered him face-down onto the cot, which was really very considerate of him. “I took care of myself.”

“That. That is hot.” Tony buried his face in the pillow because who needed to breathe, really. Comfort was obviously so much more important, as was the image of Stephen jerking himself off while he beat Tony’s ass. That was definitely going in the spank bank. Heh, spank.

There was soft laughter somewhere above him—had he said all of that out loud? Oh well.

“You’re an idiot.” Stephen kissed his temple. “Sleep well, asshole.”


End file.
